But we accept
Thy hospitable kindness; for the son
Of Agamemnon, for whose sake we come,
Present or not is worthy to this house.
Go, my attendants, I must enter it;
This man, though poor, more cheerful than the rich
Receives me; to his kindness thanks are due.
More would it joy me if thy brother, blest
Himself, could lead me to his prosperous house:
Yet haply he may come; th' oracular voice
Of Phoebus firmly will be ratified:
Lightly of human prophecies I deem. {438}
[_Orestes and his attendants enter the house._]
_Electra_ is in a quandary at the idea of people of such rank being
invited into her humble cottage.
_Peas._ Why not? If they are noble, as their port
Denotes them, will they not alike enjoy
Contentment, be their viands mean or rich?
The only device Electra can think of is to send to an old servant of
her father's house--the same who, as Tutor, preserved the child Orestes
on the fatal night--now an aged herdsman forced to hide himself in
obscurity, and ask him to help them in this emergency.
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